


Goodbyes by Candlelight

by banana_thief



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Between-time skip, Bottom Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Goodbye Sex, M/M, Minor Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, Porn with Feelings, Post-Time Skip, They/Them Pronouns for My Unit | Byleth, Top Claude von Riegan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22247347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banana_thief/pseuds/banana_thief
Summary: Two goodbyes turn sensual. A 2-part between-time skip fic.Dimitri can’t tell if he’s teasing. He can never tell. Can’t tell if that smile means something more, something wicked, something good. He knows that his lips look soft though. Tempting. He brings a hand up, pauses, and then gently runs his knuckles down Claude’s right sideburn. Tracing the curve of his jaw, down to under his chin, which he slowly tilts upwards. Claude’s so compliant and Dimitri’s forgotten how to breathe. He recalls their time at the academy, their training, their laughs, their shared meals, their everything...
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	Goodbyes by Candlelight

**Part One: Dimitri**

On the eve of his twentieth birthday, Dimitri shoulders the weight of his grim past. He stands in dim light, looking down at a dog-eared map of Fódlan—his world looks so small this way—flat and unimpressive.

Professor Byleth is still missing, and Edelgard wages an unrelenting war from her Adrestian throne. As for Claude, well, he’s leaving the monastery; off to eastern Fódlan to lead the Leicester Alliance. Dimitri’s heart is hollowed out with loss, while regret amasses and simmers deep within him.

_You’re powerless and pathetic._

Day after day, Dimitri finds himself slipping—losing his grip on reality. He’s alone now in his bedroom, it’s a welcomed respite, but the solitude allows his mind to drift... There are rumors regarding Grand Duke Rufus’ murder… There’s talk of imprisonment… His world is slowly crumbling all around him...

Dimitri swallows and shrugs off his cloak, draping it over the back of a chair. He runs his hand through the thick fur and bites his bottom lip. The flickering of a nearby candle draws his attention and he suddenly feels lonesome and nostalgic for the simpler, sun-soaked days of his youth. He has unwittingly pushed his friends away, fallen further into himself, and there’s no one else but him to blame for that. Sylvain’s distracted, and Ingrid’s obsessed with her training. And Felix… that deeper whatever he once had with Felix is gone. No more raucous sex after sparring. No rough, up-against-the-wall-type of kisses in the dark. Not anymore. Always curt, always mad, but now Felix won’t even acknowledge at him. He only has Dedue now, who has been unwavering in his loyalty. Guilt. The guilt eats at Dimitri. The visions have gotten worse. The whispers. Even eating has become automatic and joyless.

His senses are shutting down.

 _Edelgard_ …

Dimitri clenches his fist and sets his jaw. Edelgard has taken _everything_ from him. The rage simmers and surprisingly it doesn’t feel hot. Instead, it has a cold edge—a bite.  
  
A gentle knock stirs Dimitri. He turns, irritated but thankful for the distraction. Claude’s at the threshold. He’s grown handsome. More so. The braid's gone and his hair’s fuller. He looks like a leader in the way he carries himself, so poised, so confident. Gold is definitely his color… Dimitri looks away. He’s grown out his hair as well, yet somehow, he doesn’t look as put together. In fact, he feels utterly unkempt compared to Claude.  
  
“If you’ve got a love confession now’s the time to fess up,” Claude winks. “I leave tomorrow.”

Dimitri’s icy temper dissipates and warmth returns, low in his belly—up—to his now thrumming heart.  
  
“Stressed?” Claude’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. There’s a soft smile on his lips but his eyes look sad.

Stressed wasn’t the word. Livid? Distraught? A mélange of emotions…

Claude looks around Dimitri’s room, like he’s taking it in—memorizing. “This room is too small for a man of your size. For a king,” he says, and Dimitri grits his teeth.  
  
“I'm no king.”

An eyebrow ticks up—Claude’s unconvinced. He sighs and pushes himself away from the doorframe. He walks over and joins Dimitri and looks down at the tattered map. “I’ve heard the rumors—”

“They’re not true.”

“I already know that. How’re you holding up?” he asks and brushes an errant strand of hair away from Dimitri’s eyes. The gesture makes Dimitri’s breath hitch and he can’t muster up the courage for eye contact. Precious time squandered and regret over unsaid feelings… He looks and curses the candlelight—what it brings to Claude’s smooth complexion. “Talk to me Dimitri,” Claude supplicates. Hand pulling away. Lashes fluttering. The allure of his features stirs interest. Conjures heat.

“Your eyes are breathtaking.” It just slips out and Dimitri feels like an adolescent all over again, staring, pinning…

Claude smiles. He appears charmed, curious. “Hm? Are they now?” His words fall into a different tone, playful.

“Yes…” is all Dimitri can manage. The words die in his throat. He can’t coax anything substantial out, not with the way Claude’s looking up at him. Dimitri just wants to thread his fingers through that dark glossy hair and take in his scent. He's now fixated on Claude’s mouth, he knows he’s being inappropriate but he’s finding it difficult to gaze elsewhere.

“I like the way you’re looking at me right now, Your Royalness.”

Dimitri can’t tell if he’s teasing. He can never tell. Can’t tell if that smile means something more, something wicked, something good. But what Dimitri _does_ know is that his lips look soft. Tempting. He brings a hand up, pauses, and then gently runs his knuckles down Claude’s right sideburn. Tracing the curve of his jaw, down to under his chin, which he slowly tilts upwards. Claude’s so compliant and Dimitri’s forgotten how to breathe. He recalls their time at the academy, their training, their laughs, their shared meals, their _everything._

“If you’re going to kiss—”

He does. On the forehead. A warm smooch right between Claude's eyebrows, and it cuts him off mid-sentence. That was rude, but Dimitri doesn’t care; he just wants to taste those lips and see what else they’re capable of, but he’s working up to it, pacing himself, gathering bravado. He’s pleasantly surprised when Claude pushes into him, tilts his head to the side, and gently kisses his lower lip. They pull away, barely, and there’s no words shared between them, just blushing smiles. So, Dimitri tucks down and takes Claude’s neck. He’s gentle with the kisses there, and he swears he can feel a quickened pulse under his lips. He trails back up Claude’s jaw and chin, and their mouths are locked once again. It’s relaxed—their kissing. Soft and tender and perfectly earnest. Claude’s already wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

Dimitri doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He doesn’t want to disrupt the delicateness of their embrace with his brutish touches, his brutish desires… His mind’s racing but as soon as he feels Claude’s tongue slip past his lips, he’s there— _present_ —captivated by their intimacy. Spellbound by the slow circling of their tongues. He doesn’t know how they’ve gotten to this point. How a simple goodbye could turn into unhurried kissing. But he’s allowed his hands to indulge themselves in Claude’s silky hair, coaxing the most arousing moan out of him. An utterly devastating sound. It disarms Dimitri, and it’s wonderful, and the two slowly pull away.

“You saw right through me,” Claude whispers and Dimitri has no clue of what he speaks, but he knows he wants more, so much more.

“I need this,” Dimitri says, but he’d not quite sure what he means by _this_.

Claude steps back and Dimitri’s afraid he’s gone too far, revealed too much. He’s grasping at excuses to say, anything to save face—but the words halt in his throat as he watches Claude unclasp his golden paludamentum, allowing the cape to unceremoniously drop onto the floor. He smirks and Dimitri swallows, eyes locked on nimble fingers unbuttoning, untying, undressing—the layers pooling around his boots…

And now Dimitri’s thankful for the candlelight and what it illuminates. He’s thankful for Claude’s audaciousness as he gently pushes his naked self against Dimitri—pinning him against the edge of the table and dropping to his knees. Curiously self-conscious as Claude unlaces his pants and pulls his erection out, gently stroking it. The feel of his calloused hand sends waves of pleasure down Dimitri’s legs and a low growl unfurls in his throat. He cannot fathom this intimacy but he welcomes it.

The bedroom door is open but Dimitri can’t be bothered to close it. He’s frozen with yearning, silently pleading, gripping the table’s edge. It's late and his candles are burning low anyhow; let the shadows consume them as Claude claims him. The wet heat of his mouth is enough to make Dimitri’s eyes roll back. He groans. It’s beyond good. Far better than anything he’s ever imagined. Gentle suction, perfect slurping, and the eye contact—! Tender yet vulgar and Dimitri loves everything about this inexplicable scene. Claude on his knees, mouth pleasuring, hands roaming. He’s humming now, mouth working faster, eyes closed, hands gripping Dimitri’s ass. He needs to stop him, or else he’ll come. So, he reluctantly grips Claude’s hair, stops him mid-slurp, and pulls his cock from his lips.

“Too much?” Claude asks, looking up at him, lips still ghosting the flushed and sensitive head.

“Not enough,” Dimitri answers and eyes his bed over by the wall.

Claude stands and stretches, long and lean and Dimitri knows it’s all for show but he’s eyefucking every taut curve and supple slope—eyes resting on Claude’s erection and muscular thighs.

“What’re you hiding under all that black?” Claude asks, plopping down onto the bed. Hinting.   
  
Dimitri undresses for him. Somewhat wavering under hungry eyes. Peeling one layer after another. Revealing more of himself. This is it. Possibly their final night together. The thought pains him and a fury swells in his chest, but he pushes it down. He'll make the most of this. He'll indulge whatever is left of his senses.

Claude reclines back and allows Dimitri’s mouth to explore him. Lips to jaw to collarbone, down the side of his chest, down to his hip, between his legs. Dimitri pulls back foreskin and wraps his lips around the uncovered head, moaning at the feel and faint taste of him. He gives Claude exactly what he had given him—deliberate licks and gentle sucking. He moans around Claude’s length at the feel of his hands pressing into his hair, urging for more. A slew of whispered curses in a foreign tongue and Dimitri can’t help but smile.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued in Part Two: Claude... ♡


End file.
